


Baby I'm Going To Hell (So Meet Me There?)

by NotASmoothOperator



Series: Destructive Tendencies [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Background Kenny/?, Background Stan/Kyle, Band Fic, Blood and Violence, Craig Tucker Being An Asshole, Drinking, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Drugs, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fist Fights, Heroin, Multi, Slow Burn, Trauma, Tweek Tweak Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 17:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASmoothOperator/pseuds/NotASmoothOperator
Summary: Remember that Guitar Hero episode? Yeah.Essentially, Craig Tucker, local deadbeat and lifelong nihilist, meets the heroin dealer of his dreams and soon falls into the underground band scene with him and both will have to fight to get out of this alive and in love.





	1. The Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short first chapter to ease into the chaos. I don't encourage drug use mkay, and I do not own South Park or its characters, I'm just writing to get through my own shit by escaping it yay. Feedback is welcomed, thank you.

“Kyle and I started a band.”

Stan says after the four people left from high school managed to arrive, sluggish and uncaring as they all were. Craig was surprised he was already annoyed and Marsh had only said six words so far.

“And we’re performing tonight, so we’d really like all the local support we could get, maybe to turn a few heads and start our band on a good roll!” Kyle finished, throwing his arms up in his attempt to look like he wasn’t desperate and was just being a good ol’ pal. Silence stretched between the four seated on Stan’s living room couch. Craig rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, huffing out a breath before turning to face his fellow South Park nobodies. Kenny, Butters, and Bebe all shrugged or expressed another form of half-assed agreement one after the other before Craig turned back to Kyle and Stan.

“‘Kay, where is it?” Craig monotoned. The two didn’t seem to take offense to any of their friends and their unenthused sentiments.

“Here at Stan’s garage tonight, we’re going to open up the garage to face the street and set up chairs and lights in the front yard to attract people. We also went by the local bars and shops to drop off flyers earlier today so we should have people coming other than just you guys.” Craig raised his eyebrows and Kenny barked out a laugh.

“You guys need alcohol, ya know?”

“Kenny, what the fuck are you talking about?” Stan had obviously taken offense.

“Dude… You guys have _no_ fan-base. You guys are just a local band in South Park and you’re expecting people just to come? Cute but nah, you guys need to set up like coolers or like a lemonade stand for people to get fucked up at. That’s how you bring a crowd in, get them to stay, and make them go crazy for your shitty garage music.” Kenny laughed, light-hearted as ever even as he deals out insults wrapped in truth.

Kenny had to be Craig’s favorite in South Park since graduation. He was the only one left that wasn’t lying to himself still about making it out of here. Craig can’t even think if he ever thought he would. Kyle’s irritated sigh almost made Craig laugh, but he wasn’t too invested in the conversation to begin with.

“ _Okay_ , well, do you want to help out since you’re so all-knowing?” Kenny winked back at Kyle before reassuring his friend that he would definitely help with the beverages in a bit.

“Cool.” Craig acknowledged the room, deciding he was done and heading out of the Marsh’s front door.

“Tonight at 9!” Stan called before the door swung shut behind Craig.

Not really what Craig wanted to spend his night off from the local liquor store doing, but if it was going to be free drinks who was Craig to refuse? It’s not like the 22 year-old couldn’t buy his own but Craig had never passed a chance to drink since the accident in senior year at South Park High School. Craig pulled his sagging and beyond fraying pants up after making it down the front steps, kicking his equally disgusting sneakers out from the tears at the bottom of his pants. Unlike Marsh and Broflovski, Craig had actually managed to make it out of his parent’s home and had rent to pay over buying himself cool clothes from Urban Outfitters, or wherever they got their stupid 90’s grunge band looks from. Just another reason Craig was endlessly annoyed by those two. Aside from their resounding belief that they were special and deserved to make it out of South Park like the majority of their class had (even though some were just a few towns away) and continued with their different schemes to become famous. Pipe dreams are for assholes who can’t understand that sometimes their life will suck compared to others.

Craig pulled his keys out of his pocket, unlocking his car and smiling to himself once more at the hand-painted racing stripes on the trusty rust-bucket. Kenny hated him for doing it but then again whenever Bebe was out of the picture he still called Craig for a ride anyways.

The door shut with a creak and a bang and Craig thought he was on his way back to his apartment before a wild Kenny ran out in front of his car. Craig rolled down the window before pulling his torso out to cuss out Kenny the fucking idiot. His hard-ass head would have definitely put a dent in his baby.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, you mother fucking piece of _shit_? Do you really want to die? Just _ask_ next time, asshole!”

Kenny being his favorite person left in South Park said volumes for the others. Said asshole grinned wide and toothily before jumping inside the passenger side seat.

“I’m going to knock your other front tooth out, you dumb hillbilly.” Craig promised the still-smiling-sack-of-shit sitting beside him.

“Cool, cool, but, hey, anyway you can get me a discount at the liquor store and a ride there too, sweetheart? You look sexy as hell today, by the way. You-.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kenny.”

Kenny happily shut his mouth but remained smiling as Craig banged his head against his steering wheel. After a blessed silent moment, Craig pulled his head up to look at Kenny.

“Are you really asking me to go to work on my day off and buy your friends drinks to give out at their stupid party?” Kenny held up a hand to sedate Craig.

“No, _dude_ , I have money from the guys, I just figured if we used your discount we could get more bang for our buck, ya know?” Kenny nudged Craig’s stiff shoulders encouragingly. “And-hey-let’s be honest here, Bebe really doesn’t want to give me a ride anywhere since she rode me and then I rode Butters.”

Craig stared at Kenny in disbelief.

“…Didn’t they come here together?”

“They’re empowering each other or whatever and ganging up on me. Plus I think Bebe is just mad because Butters is her child or whatever.”

“‘Kay...” Craig turned to look back to the street, hands still on the wheel.

Kenny immediately lost patience, “Craig, give me a ride and do me this favor and we can smoke some shit before the show tonight.”

_Free weed and free alcohol..._

Craig turned out onto the street and headed towards the liquor store as Kenny buckled up with mumbling about assholes that wore winter hats in the summer. Craig knew he was a creature of habit and he also gave no fucks so the car ride was silent after Kenny settled down. Craig turned on the music in the car, letting the air come in through his window as he drove through South Park’s downtown area. The breeze calmed Craig down and he enjoyed seeing the familiar sights that passed by him, Kenny’s work place, City Wok, then the grocery store and so on. Craig felt his foot slip on the gas peddle at an unfamiliar sight flashed by. A lanky man in a trench coat sitting at the bus stop bench, sipping coffee as he rested his unruly spikes of bright blonde hair in his coffee-free hand.

“Who the fuck wears a trench coat in 80 degree weather?” The man turned and stared back at Craig through his side rear-view mirror as he passed as if he immediately knew he was being looked at.

“Earth to Craig,” Kenny slapped his shoulder to return his focus to the road, “just a friendly drug dealer stopping by the cesspool I’d imagine, nothing special or worth crashing over, dude.” Kenny laughed. Craig rolled his shoulder where Kenny slapped him, paying no heed to Kenny’s words.

The man was an alien. Those green eyes had stared straight into Craig’s through the side mirror and sent chills down his spine.

He was definitely new to the scenery.

Craig couldn't help but keep checking his mirror for those eyes long after he'd passed. Those eyes were haunting and hooded in exhaustion but were too wide to be that tired.

Craig didn't like change to his scenery and his relief at pulling into the parking lot of the liquor store with the same old beat up trucks parked in its lot were welcoming to Craig's racing heart. Kenny pat his shoulder silently and waited for Craig to get himself together.

Craig took a deep breath, the mixture of anger, discomfort, and interest falling away when he looked back to Kenny's same old dark blue eyes and missing front tooth. With a jerk, Craig opened his door and headed towards the store, Kenny close behind with a bang of his car door.

"He'll probably be gone by tomorrow morning after he's seen the lack of money flow or buyers dude."

"I'm not worried about it." Craig shouldered the door to let Kenny in.

"Mmhm." Kenny hummed disinterestedly as he made his way to the beer aisle. Craig turned to the register to nod to his boss who turned his eyes back down to his gun magazine again. Booze and guns, the dream mountain life is what his boss lived. Craig flipped off his boss flippantly and walked to aid Kenny who was staring intently between a keg's and a 24-pack of beer's prices.

"How much do you think we really need?" Craig leaned against a shelf, bored with Kenny's indecision. Kenny looked up at Craig with an eyebrow raised,

"Dude, I'm using all of the money they gave me."

"Do you really think they're going to have more than the four of us show up?" Craig huffed as Kenny shot him a look.

"Nope. More for us to get super drunk though."

"Ah." Craig let a small smile on his face and Kenny ate it up, moving his hand up for a high five that Craig obliged him.

After lugging the two kegs and two 24 packs Kenny had decided on up to the front, Greg looked up from his magazine and rang them up with as much enthusiasm you'd expect from his character type. 

"Yer workin' tomorrow, don't come in too shitfaced." Greg addressed as he took the cash from Kenny's hand. Craig smirked,

"Only a little then?"

Greg looked up at him after handing the change to Kenny, who gladly pocketed the extra change, "As long as you can work, boy, I don't give a damn. Y'all stay out of trouble, though, I ain't givin' out free rides, ya hear?"

Kenny saluted Greg, "Yessir, will do, sir."

Greg waved them along, patience gone, "Go on then."

Kenny handed Craig one of the kegs and one of the beer cases and grabbed the others himself.

"I mean it, Craig, stay outta trouble I don't have anyone that can cover you tomorrow!" Greg called to him as he left that Craig didn't bother responding to.

After loading the beer and shutting the trunk, Craig and Kenny climbed into the car and headed towards Kenny's home. Kenny turned to him halfway there,

"Dude, where are you going?" Craig shot him an incredulous look.

"I have the stuff on me, I thought-nevermind, just take the next right and head towards Starks Pond."

Craig tightened his hands on the wheel and relaxed before turning, Kenny was lucky that he had weed or else he'd be walking his ass home right then. The turn took them around the back of Tweak Bros Coffee shop, one of the nicer looking shops around town, but the trench coat from earlier was reclining on the back entrance stairs, staring straight out to Craig again.

His pale fingers gripped a pack of cigarets in one hand and in the other hand was a lit one he was currently taking a drag from. His trench coat flipped out around him like the lord of the trash he sat near. The guy exhaled smoke and waved the hand holding the cigaret at Craig, acknowledging the stare this time. 

Heart racing once more, Craig sped up past the coffee shop and didn't let up until the sign for Starks Pond rolled into view.

Who the fuck was that guy?


	2. Fuck Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Kyle perform. Craig gets messy. 'Trench coat guy' worries. Also, sorry for how long this took, been doing odd little jobs to make some money before going back to college this fall, hopefully I can crank out the next chapter thats almost done within the week!   
> !!!WARNING!!! This chapter as well as many of the future chapters involve drugs as well as driving while under the influence-please DO NOT take this work of fairly romanticized fiction as serious and think it is okay to do any of it. While I have tried the drugs I write about, I don't advise others to use unless if it is something you really want to do and would consider otherwise. I am only saying this in hopes people will stay safe and can't believe warnings like these are needed.

Kenny slammed the passenger door and Craig considered slamming his fist into his remaining tooth that he loved flashing.

Kenny pulled out a prescription bottle with the label ripped off and Craig, once again, reconsidered.

Their tired asses found solace in the park bench at the lake. Craig absently traced a carving of his name on the wood, something he’d done in middle school with a makeshift knife he’d made in shop class. Kenny muttered to himself as he gutted a backwoods, Craig didn’t mind. This was something he was used to, a routine between the two of them. Routines made Craig feel safe, something he was picked on as others saw his routines as “boring” or “dull”. He payed no mind to what others said of him as long as he had his routines.

Kenny licked the wrap and Craig watched with slight disgust. Routine or not, Kenny had too much saliva for Craig’s likes whenever he rolled the blunt.

“Damn, save some of that spit for Butters, McCormick.” Craig groaned. Kenny paused his licking to blow a raspberry at Craig like the toddler he was.

Routine.

Safety.

Craig just leaned back into the bench, opting to look out at the lake. Sure it was polluted at the moment, but Craig enjoyed seeing the reflections of the mid-day sky in the water. It brought the universe closer to him he felt. His favorite time was night when the stars reflected in the water, sometimes he would be adventurous or maybe just high enough to strip down to his boxers and wade in the stars. He’s caught his fair share of colds but Craig was notorious for not giving a fuck. That’s how everyone in town saw him.

The smell of weed brought Craig to the surface of reality again, looking at Kenny with expectant eyes. Kenny, in turn, smirked and chiefed the blunt a couple of times before passing it to Craig. A blunt never lasted long between the two of them. Sometimes due to their mini pissing contests of who could smoke the shit out of the blunt and who could get the most out of their weed. Sure enough, the blunt was gone in minutes and the two on the bench spread out, shoving the other until both were satisfied. One blunt wasn’t enough to get them high at this point, just mellowed, and Craig wanted to be high more than anything at the moment.

“You got anymore?” Craig kicked Kenny’s leg off his lap. Kenny let his head fall back against the bench before responding.

“Yeah but I don’t have anymore wraps, dude.”

“Since when in the fuck has that been an issue, McCormick? Lazy shit.” Craig looked around, assessing the land. Kenny groaned dramatically before leaning down to his backpack. The same backpack he had in elementary school, straps barely hanging on it and the Chimpokomon logo so faded it pretty much just read an elegant “ _poko_ ” and an eye of one of the characters. Kenny thought it was cool and mysterious and Craig thought it was ratty and stupid.

“Let’s see…” Kenny sang as he shuffled through loose items in the backpack.

“ _Yoooo_ , look what I snatched.” Craig stared at the item in Kenny’s hand that he proudly showcased. “I saw this at the Whole Foods and thought it’d be perfect so I took it!” Kenny could have stolen anything and the fact that Kenny was proud of this?

“What the fuck.” Craig looked at the bell pepper and back at Kenny’s smug face.

“It’s a green bell pepper, dude!”

“I know that, dumbass, but why would you think we should smoke out of a bell pepper?” Craig shoved Kenny’s shoulder.

“Are you shitting me, Craig? I put a whole in it, put some water in it, dump the water out to clear the loose seeds, put the piece into the whole, then make a second whole on the other side and this thing is ready to go!” Kenny bounced, whipping a wrench bit out of his pocket and starting the process he had so clearly thought out in a Whole Fucking Foods when he saw the bell pepper.

Kenny McCormick was a genius about all the wrong things to be a genius for.

“And it’s super easy to dispose of!” Kenny continued as he poured some water from a bottle into the whole he made before shaking it around. Craig rubbed his mouth to hide the smile he felt coming on, he didn’t want to give Kenny the satisfaction of knowing he thought it was cool what he was doing.

“Don’t try to hide it, Craig, I know you think I’m a fucking _genius_ , cause I am and you’d be a liar if you said this wasn’t amusing at all.” Kenny grinned, never looking away from his bell pepper. Craig hated that Kenny knew him so well, someone he didn’t really see as a friend, more like someone he just got fucked up with five out of seven days of the week. Craig didn’t have friends. He hadn’t since the last year of high school and he was okay with keeping it that way ever since the falling out he had with them.

Let people get close to you and they just fuck up your routine anyways, as Craig always reassured himself with whenever he felt he might be lonely. Kenny waved the modified bell pepper in front of Craig’s face.

“Ready to get _peppered_ , my dude?” Craig couldn’t help the half scoff, half laugh that brought out of him.

It wasn’t until the sun hit the tops of the trees that Craig and Kenny made it back to the car.

“Fuck, dude.”

“ _Fuck_.” Craig agreed as he stared at the steering wheel. Both snickered at the situation.

“Can you even drive, or are you too peppered out?”

“Kenny, if you don’t stop making pepper jokes I’m going to kill you myself.”

“I’d like to see that, Craigifer.” Kenny laughed.

“And I can drive, I just needed a second-.” Craig was interrupted by Kenny erupting into full-bodied laughter, kicking the glove box and beating his hands against the roof of the car.

“Shut up! I can fucking drive!” Craig retorted, fuming.

“ _Then do it_!” Kenny barely said through his laughter.

“I will! Give me a fucking second, assmuncher…” Craig assessed the ignition and remembered the keys were in his hand.

“Ha.” Craig started the car and took longer than he should have backing out of Stark’s Pond. Once on the road again, Kenny had managed to simmer down to his usual smarmy grin.

“Back to Marsh’s?” Craig asked, partially to see if he was going the right way.

“Yeah.” Pulling up to Marsh’s house, Craig was surprised to see lights strung up on the trees near the garage as well as the garage itself. The lawn chairs placed about haphazardly, not so much, but it was nice to see Stan and Kyle were putting effort into this endeavor at least. Speakers were placed on each side of the garage which was open to see two mic-stands and electric guitars set up. There was a fold-out table with a few snacks and stacks of solo cups on it, pushed to the side for the beer Craig and Kenny were bringing to be placed on the table as well. Stan and Kyle were nowhere to be seen but Butters and Bebe as well as some tool Craig hadn’t seen before were chatting it up on the lawn chairs.

“Who’s the tool?” Craig asked Kenny who just continued staring at the threesome with a single blonde eyebrow raised.

“Alright, McCormick, I’m gonna need you to help me with the beer, even if your blonde paradise may be in trouble.” Craig sighed, climbing out of the car and stumbling from the head rush he got from standing. The bell pepper was definitely a good idea. Kenny rolled on the kegs like Superman, and inevitably crashed, but they managed to get the beer set up soon enough that by the time Stan and Kyle came outside, everything was in place.

“Damn, dude, you got all of that?” Stan stared wide-eyed at the two kegs and 24-packs. Kenny looped and arm around Craig’s neck, smashing his dimpled cheek against Craig’s oily cheek unpleasantly.

“Yeah, we got Craig’s discount!” Kyle smiled at Stan who looped his arm around his neck in return,

“This is gonna be great, Kyle, I know it.”

“Ugh, you say that every time.” Kenny groaned, kicking back on a lawn chair, popping open a beer that not even Craig had seen him snatch. Craig snickered at the mood shift, settling next to Kenny, although practically on top of him in the small lawn chair. The chair’s creaking protest as well as Kenny’s were music to Craig’s ears. The elbows thrown were expected and made Craig smile. Butters and Bebe met Craig’s eyes, both silently staring at the scene Craig and Kenny were making on the lawn chair. The tool from before had walked over to Stan and Kyle now, both wrapped around each other as they chatted. Craig stopped his territory fight with Kenny, resting his arm on Kenny’s shoulder to lean down into the playful blonde.

“You’re welcome, asshole.” Craig stood, turning around to the drink table, acting as if he was helping unbox the beers as a ruse to stash a couple in the pockets of his pants. Tugging up at the waist of his pants, Craig swore under his breath, he should really take a trip to Goodwill and snag a belt already.

“Hey there, Craig!” Craig startled, cursing loudly. Turning around, Craig was met with a halo of heavenly platinum hair and dimples deeper than hell.

“Scotch…” Craig answered, Butters rocked back an forth on his heels, all smiles.

“Would, uh, you mind terribly passing me one of those beers?” Craig nearly let his surprise show on his face.

“Yeah, sure.” Craig turned back around, reaching for a beer. The soft head that leaned against his shoulder made Craig’s skin crawl.

“Now, what are you fellas trying to prove anyways?” Butters hummed softly, hooking his arm with Craig’s slowly. Craig wished he was turned to face Kenny, he would know how to help.

“Craig…?” Craig looked down into pale blue eyes, one scarred from childhood mistakes.

“Sorry, just high.” Craig clipped back, trying to hand Butters his beer.

“Ah! Sorry, buddy, I’ve never seen you like this.” Butters replied with less creepiness and more genuine politeness.

“Nobody usually does.” Butters smiled with more sadness at Craig's silent 'at all'.

“Aw, I didn’t think you wanted much company, Craig.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh.” Butters frowned, maybe more so pouted with his kind of face but still.

“Why Kenny?” Craig sighed, asking the question Butters had no doubt started the conversation just to ask. Butters frowned more at this but continued staring into Craig’s eyes. Heaving an even bigger sigh, Craig allowed him information he was obviously searching for,

“We get fucked up together to escape our fucked up lives like the total shitheads we are.” Butters opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, but Craig narrowed his eyes and continued before Butters could get his say in,

“We have been since freshman year." Butters looked taken back by that. "You didn’t know that? I thought from what Kenny said that you two have been best friends since middle school.”

Butters huffed out a breath and gave a stern nod, no matter what, Craig still saw 10 year old Butters in every emotion displayed. That was probably why Craig could afford to say more than a sentence to him without being hostile. At the same time, something about Butters also made him uncomfortable. How someone like him would choose to be friends with the people in this town, even more to like the town.

“Well, there just seems to be things not even a best friend will bother letting you know.” Butters ducked his head down, still leaning against Craig’s arm. Craig felt extremely uncomfortable, Butters was the kind of person that wanted to be reassured with affection and Craig neither reassured or was affectionate with anyone ever.

Besides his past guinea pigs, Stripe and Stripe Jr. of course. Butters got the idea from his stiff limbs and sniffled a little before pulling away.

He smiled up at Craig, “Thanks for not getting offended at my intrusion, I sure do feel like a real jerk.”

“You’re fine… here.” Craig looked anywhere but at Butters open face and slapped the aforementioned beer into his hand. “Have fun.”

“Craig… you might push people away but I can’t wait until the day when someone moseys up and forces you to let them into that warm heart I know you have.”

Craig scowled at Butters, “Sure.”

Butters laughed, “Aw, you’re welcome, buddy!”

Damn Butters and how he thinks he can read between the lines.

Hours passed and Stan and Kyle had their sets prepped and, to Craig’s surprise, a crowd of about twenty people showed up. Given, the shitty sign Kenny whipped out that declared ‘free beer’ against the Marsh’s mailbox aided the numbers.

Hell, a crowd’s still a crowd.

Towards the end, Craig, Kenny, Butters, and Bebe crowded together next to the corner of the garage, the approximity to the speakers made it impossible to talk normally to each other. Luckily for them, a shotgunning contest with the hoard of beers Kenny snagged from the table, didn’t require conversation.

Craig was halfway through his third showdown with Kenny in a sudden death match with Butters cheering on both of them like the people pleaser he was and Bebe aggressively cheering on Craig out of spite, when a middle aged man with slicked back hair and an untucked white dress shirt sauntered up to their corner with a smug face, topped off with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you friends of the talent?” Craig choked on the last bit of his beer whereas Kenny spat a mouthful out, dousing Craig with a generous amount of spit and cheep beer.

“ _The talent_? Stan and Kyle?” Bebe laughed, darting her brown eyes between Craig and Kenny and the newcomer.

“Ah, so you are, do you know if they are currently looking for management or if they are being scouted?”

“Uh. They’re playing out of their garage, sir.” Butters quipped, a slight smile on his face.

“Damn Butters, burn.” Kenny sniggered, dropping his beer can to the ground. Butters stuck his tongue out at Kenny in return.

“Well,” The man interrupted, “I guess it’s my lucky day then, mind if I stick around till their set ends?”

Craig snorted, stripping off his soaked hoodie before heading into the Marsh’s house, brushing past the man on his way. He could care less what that greasy bastard had in store for Stan and Kyle, Craig had learned his lesson to stay far away from any hijinks that came their way.

Somehow, the Marsh’s home seemed to have a little party going on inside the living room, by the looks of it a drunk Randy Marsh had rallied a few other drunks inside the home. Craig kept his head low, Randy liked to be the town gossip as well as the town drunk, how he managed both titles was a wonder to Craig. Last thing Craig wanted was his dad’s angry heavy breathing on the other side of a phone call telling him all about the time he spent at the Marsh’s.

What a dick.

Craig’s t-shirt was barely damp but he still threw both the hoodie and the shirt into the kitchen sink, turning on the hot water and rinsing out Kenny’s gift. A minute later, Craig helped himself to the Marsh’s dryer in their connected washroom.

“Oh, shit, this is some good shit!” Craig’s face scrunched up at Randy Marsh’s exclamation. It sounded as if he had taken a little party into the kitchen.

Fucking great.

Now Craig was definitely trapped in the tiny room that stank of musk and detergent.

“Uh, yeah, cool-well I-“

“Hey-hey, your parents-they got anything… _you know_ …” The voice that definitely wasn’t Randy’s sighed.

“Heavier? Yeah. But I don’t just-just carry that stuff on me, man!”

“Oh, bummer…”

“Look, man, I just got back in town but just come by the shop ahead of time and I’m sure my parents will hook you up.” Craig’s eyebrows shot up.

Was this that new guy? It had to be. New in town and his parents own a shop here? As in the coffee shop owned by Mr. Tweak and Mrs. Tweak?

“Wait, what the fuck?” Craig mumbled into the small washroom. Cracking the door open slightly, Craig saw a flushed and shirtless Randy stumbling back into the living room, a scoff escaped his lips. Poor Marsh, his dad was an absolute ass, no wonder he became one as well.

“ _Jesus Christ_!” Craig startled at the shout, his scoff had a scrawny blonde cursing and clutching at his chest.

“Why the fuck are you in there? Wait why the fuck are you peeping?” The man was indeed the same guy he’d seen earlier, he even had the same trench coat on. Unlike his appearance, the guy had a high pitched shriek. His bloodshot eyes contrasted with the electric green of his irises. How round and wide open they were put Craig on edge, if his shrieking voice didn’t give away his nervousness, then his eyes certainly did.

“Got beer on my shirt.” Craig replied with as much lackluster as he could manage with his racing heart.

“... Well that explains why you’re shirtless.”

“Oh, no, I’m actually railing like three people in here.” Craig kept his poker face, even adding a glance over his shoulder for good measure. “Yeah, just some drug dealer, guys.”

The blonde’s sharp teeth came down onto his bottom lip, holding back amusement from showing. Craig let a small smirk take over his face.

“Well I guess-“ Both men jumped at the obnoxious buzzer of the dryer. Craig and the blonde stared at each other for a second before laughing.

The blonde tugged a hand through his wild, static locks of hair as his laughter died down.

Craig’s head swam in the silence between the two, pushing his weight against the doorframe.

“Alright, well, have fun I guess.” The blonde began backing out of the kitchen, eyes going back and forth between the living room and Craig’s face. Craig found his voice when the jittery man stumbled a bit at attempting to walk backwards.

“Thanks, I’ll tell the guys-they’ll be sooo happy.” If Craig was even a little sober, he would’ve never finished on that note. With that said the blonde jerked his head back in a laugh and properly walked away and back into the living room where Randy could be heard chanting nonsense. Craig closed the door, staring at the dryer.

He didn’t even ask what his name was. Craig threw his shirt on, not giving two fucks that, while now dry, it still smelled atrocious.

Shrugging back through the living room, he made his way to regroup with his friends. Grabbing his hat off his head, he ruffled the matted down hair, stuffing the hat into a jean pocket. Watching Kenny swing both of his arms around a smiling Butters and Bebe who rolled her eyes, Stan wolf whistle from his perch against Kyle’s shoulder who kicked back against Stan’s shin, Craig guessed it was simpler to refer to these people he knew more than he ever wished to, as his friends.

“Your shirt’s dry, dude, oh my god how.” Kenny slurred in amazement rather than actual curiosity, Butters giggled and touched Craig’s shirt, confirming the dryness of the formerly wet shirt.

“Damn, Ken.” Bebe bit back a smile that she turned into a scoff. Kenny rounded on her.

“I’m having deja vu…” Kenny held his head, pulling his arms away from the two other blondes.

He kept his eyes closed as he held out another hand towards Bebe, palm facing outwards toward her chest.

“You have said this before…” He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. “I’m getting a mental image… pants pulled down, a gasp, and- _oh_!"

“Shut the fuck up, Ken!” She smacked the palm away, her face flushed. Stan howling in laughter while Kyle choked on his beer.

“How was the show?” Craig felt obligated to ask. Stan’s laughter died out quickly, he seemed excited still though.

“Dude, we got a manager! We’re gonna be rock stars!” Stan shook Kyle’s shoulders in his excitement. Each shake spilled more beer and Kyle seemed to take it fine, grinning ear to ear.

“Is he legit?” Craig asked, ever the cynic.

“Yeah, he’s from this pretty chill record label with a base in Denver!” Kyle whipped out a business card from his pant’s pocket.

“He set us up with a gig at Crunchy’s Micro Brew in two weeks! He called his company and everything right in front of us!” Stan locked his arms around Kyle’s shoulders, bouncing up and down.

“Cool.” Craig nodded, Kyle appreciated his effort the most and smiled back.

“So let’s celebrate already!” Kenny threw his head back and yelled into the night sky.

“Have you not been?” Bebe smirked.

Butters, surprisingly, dipped away from Kenny and beelined for the drinks table. Stan followed him hot on his heels as if Butters would drink the rest of the beer without him. Kenny took to falling against Bebe, whispering into her ear as her frown turned into a smile. She shook her head but allowed him to lean on her as they turned to the drinks table as well. Kyle stuck around, turning his smile from his friends to Craig,

“You’ll be there, right, Craig?”

“The show? Yeah.” He shrugged but Kyle nodded back.

“That’s great, I think we’ll need all the support we can get.” Kyle let out a nervous laugh, darting his eyes back to their friends.

Craig bit the inside of his cheek, he hated being the one to comfort, he sucked at being reassuring. He was better at pointing out the inevitable. Like Stan was obviously three sheets to the wind and way more excited than Kyle. With an unsure hand, Craig cupped one of Kyle’s slumped and bony shoulders. He gave a soft squeeze that Kyle acknowledged with a teary smile, Craig’s stomach dropped.

“I’m fine.” Kyle shrugged his hand off at Craig’s frozen expression. “I just-I just worry that-that something bad is gonna happen. Nothing has ever gone right for us.”

“Probably.” Craig admitted slowly, “But I wouldn’t ruin the possibility it doesn’t by getting stuck before anything even happens.”

Kyle looked over Craig’s shoulder, staying silent.

“Doesn’t hurt to be cautious.” Craig sighed out, ducking his head.

“Thank you…” Kyle whispered. Craig grunted uncomfortably as Kyle’s freckled arms shot around him in a quick hug.

“You should try getting wasted so you don’t have to be the reasonable one.” Kyle laughed as he stepped away from Craig. For what felt like the first time, Craig graced a genuine grin at Kyle.

“I guess I will. I’d hate that.”

Even with those words, Craig stayed planted by the garage.

Since when had these people become trusting of him? He pushed everyone away in anger after what happened at the beginning of senior year. Not that anyone wanted him to be around after everything that had gone down. It had become that Craig Tucker was not someone you talked to unless if you had to for something class related.

After all, he’d put golden boy, Bradly Biggle, and even his own best friend, Clyde Donovan, in the ICU. Craig felt his throat closing up just trying to think about it. He still had the scars of Clyde’s nails that had tried pulling him away from Bradly’s face. And Clyde now had to wear false teeth from when Craig turned around and bashed his face into a locker.

Craig scratched at his shoulder, pressing his fingers harshly into the shirt that covered it. Craig breathed through his nose, struggling to pull breath past his throat that was closing up more and more by the second. Clyde’s disoriented face and tears that ran down it when Craig was in control of himself always popped into his mind, and always kept him up at night.

Butters pressed a cold beer can into Craig’s limp hand, smiling with all of his innocence.

“Hey there, fella, why don’t you join us?” Butters looked over his shoulder to the group and then back to Craig’s unmoving face.

Clyde’s bashed-in face became Butters's face in his head and Craig wanted to puke.

This is why Craig can’t have friends.

“Fuck off.” Craig glared at Butters, shoving him aside as he made his way to his car.

“ _Wh_ -C-Craig?” Butters called after him, confused.

Craig shut him out, throwing open the door to his car and stumbling inside.

“Should you really be driving?” A new and squeakier voice said to him.

“Should you really be talking to me?” Craig shot back, monotone.

“Uh-?" Craig slammed the car door, blocking out the person.

With shaking hands, Craig started the car and peeled away from the Marsh’s house.

Glancing to his rearview mirror, the blonde in the trench coat stood next to the road, wringing his hands and looking after Craig with wide, green eyes.

Somehow, Craig woke up the next morning with six worried texts on his phone.

**From: Bebe Stevens**

_1:12 AM_

babe where are you going??? you shouldn’t be driving! i can call an uber please pull over!

**From: Kenny McCormick**

_1:12 AM_

dude r u okay? call me

**From: Kyle Broflovski**

_1:28 AM_

I hope you made it home

**From: Butters Stotch**

_1:29 AM_

I’m sorry, please don’t drive I’m worried about you

_1:45 AM_

I’ll always be your friend stay safe

**From: Stan Marsh**

_10:03 AM_

You’re still coming to our show right? Theres no accident report so I’m glad youre alive.

Craig sighed, rubbing his face, feeling his nose and eyes sting.

“Fuck.” Yanking his bedcovers aside, a single beer can hit the wall with a sharp clang that made Craig flench. He looked over to the wall under the window, dibbles of leftover beer ran down his wall. The sunlight peeking around the hung-up Red Racer blanket made Craig flench again and then his stomach dropped, looking back at his phone.

“ _Fuck_.” It was twelve minutes until his shift and it took twenty minutes just to get to work. Rolling off of his mattress, Craig snatched up the unwashed work shirt from his floor and stumbled out of the bedroom. He found his keys on the frayed loveseat in the living room and made record time getting out of his apartment and to his car.

His manager chewed him out in his own way by tossing the keys to Craig with a silent glare before stomping off to his truck and leaving Craig to finish the day by the looks of it.

It could have been worse.

Craig lent his head against the cold metal of the register, groaning quietly when the bell rang, announcing a customer.

“Pack of Reds?” Craig’s head lifted. Kenny, hands stuffed in his pockets, stood there with a small smile and scrunched up eyebrows.

Craig nodded sharply, turned and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds, and rang up Kenny. After taking Kenny’s crumpled bills, Kenny spoke up again.

“We’re glad you’re okay, dude.” Craig’s head pounded and his eyes stung.

Silently, he tossed the bills back at Kenny, followed by the pack of cigarettes. Craig turned his back on Kenny’s confused expression and began sweeping behind the counter.

“O-okay, thanks, Craig. See you later.” Craig stopped sweeping the moment the bell announced Kenny’s departure. After a minute, Craig’s pocket buzzed. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, Craig eyed the new text.

**From: Kenny McCormick**

_11:17 AM_

we’re not mad at u

Craig sighed through his nose. Another text came in.

want to blaze later? on me!

Craig chuckled, shooting off an ‘ok’ to Kenny. Before he had the chance to put his phone away, a third and final text came in.

met a dude u’d like at the party

Craig rolled his eyes, stuffing the phone back into his pocket.


End file.
